“All but me, Sneak,” said Boone.

“And you won’t be any company for me.  Dod—­I’ve a notion to go too!  If I could foller any thing to make a living in Fillydelfa—­”

“If you go with us, you shall never want—­I will see that you are provided for,” said Glenn.

“It’s a bargain!” said Sneak, with the eager emphasis characteristic of the trading Yankee.

“But poor Pete—­the horses!” said Joe.

“There are stalls in the boat for them,” said Roughgrove.

“Huzza!  I’m glad.  Huzza!” cried Joe.

* * * * *

The next morning beamed upon them in beauty—­and in sadness.  The sun rose in majesty, and poured his brilliant and inspiring rays on peak and valley and plain.  But the hearts of the peaceful wanderers throbbed in sorrow as they gazed for the last time on the scene before them.  Though it had been identified with the many perilous and painful encounters with savages, yet the quivering green leaves above, the sparkling brook below, and the soft melody of happy birds around, were intimately associated with some of the most blissful moments of their lives.

La-u-na retired to a lonely spot, and poured forth a farewell song to the whispering spirits of her fathers.  Long her steadfast gaze was fixed on the blue sky, as if communing with the departed kings from whom she descended.  At length her tears vanished like a shower in the sunshine, and a bright smile rested upon her features, as if her prayer had been heard and all she asked were granted!  Prophetic vision!  While the race from which she separated is doomed to extinction in the forest, the blood she mingled with the Anglo-Saxon race may yet be destined to sway the councils of a mighty empire.

William mused in silence, guarding at a distance the bride of his heart, and not venturing to intrude upon her devotions.  The past was like a dream to him—­the present a bright vision—­the future a paradise!

Glenn and Mary were seated together, regarding with impatience the brief preparations to embark.  Boone, Roughgrove, Sneak, and Joe were busily engaged lading the vessel.  Sneak had hastily brought thither his effects, and without a throe of regret abandoned his house for ever to the owls.  Joe succeeded with but little difficulty in getting the horses on board.  The fawn, the kitten, the hounds, and the chickens were likewise taken along.

And now all was ready to push out into the current.  All were on board.  Boone bid them an affectionate adieu in silence—­in silence, but in tears.  The cable was loosened, and the boat was wafted down on its journey eastward.  William and La-u-na sat upon the deck, and gazed at the receding shore, rendered dear by hallowed recollections.  Glenn and Mary stood at the prow, and as they marked the fleeting waters, their thoughts dwelt on the happy future.  Roughgrove was praying.  Joe was caressing the pony.  Sneak was counting his muskrat skins.  And thus we must bid them adieu.